Tru & Jack
by Sherann
Summary: Not again. Both Tru and Jack thought their days of repetition were behind them that isn't until August 20th where they find themselves facing their biggest challenge yet. Will they be able to resist the temptation of giving in, will they be able to resist each other? This does not belong to me this belongs to the creators of Tru Calling.
1. Preface

_"_ _ **In real life, the hardest aspect of the battle between good and evil is determining which is which."**_

 **George R. R. Martin**

 **Two Caskets 1 Funeral**

Two opened caskets were propped in the front of the church. The first one to the left was holding a thirty-two-year-old woman. Her hair pitched black with a tint of brown, her skin smoothed like a china doll and her expression dimmed; even in death her beauty couldn't be hidden. Her last attire was a white laced dress, which happened to be her mom's favorite gown, the younger brother thought it would be a perfect last wear since she was the reflection of their mother: poetic and tearful that on this day August 27th 2014 he was officially losing them both. Her name was Tru Rosalee Davies-Vance, a wife and a mother of two. Harrison, her only brother, sat in the first row with his wife Corina and his daughter Elise. _'If there was only more time'_ were the words that consumed his thoughts, he desperately wanted to blame her death on himself so that when people wanted to understand how she died he could at least give them a person to point their finger to. It made no sense theoretically, but he wanted to punish himself for not trying harder. She was his favorite sister, he was supposed to be the man his father never was and protect her, protect both of his siblings. On his left side was his oldest sister Meredith, she stoically sat not being able to shed a tear. She felt she didn't deserve the right to weep for Tru. She reminisced on the last moment they shared together which was ten years ago, she told Tru that she would check into rehab and not a word was spoken since then. In a decade, their lives had changed drastically and she barely knew the young lady who was in the casket. Meredith had washed herself of the white powder addiction completely and re-entered the corporate world. It seemed to be that Tru had raised a loving family and just like her mother she had gotten herself into trouble, most likely doing something she wasn't supposed to do or being somewhere that she wasn't supposed to be.

Across the aisle was Tru's husband, Meredith's brother-in-law, who she met for the first time in the morgue and her nephews who she didn't even know were born. Tru was the middle child, the one with gifts and talent. The one who kept it all together and at the same time tore it all apart.

The second decease was a man named Jackson Harper. His hazel hair was slicked back and he wore a T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans to his request. He had the most in attendance at the funeral, the majority consisting of employees from the company he owned. The only person there who would miss him was a silvery haired man who was sitting in the row behind Tru's husband. He was on leave from the prison for the service and would return exactly after, it was imperative that Richard said goodbye to his only son. Jack wasn't his biologically, he just did a good job of replacing the son he first had who was sitting right across the aisle from him: Harrison. Harrison hadn't spoken to his father in nearly a decade, Tru and him were the ones who saw to it that dad got a long sentence in jail. Richard thought while clutching his cane how uneasy the whole event was. His adopted son in one casket, his real daughter dead in the other casket, her husband sitting in front of him: the husband and attorney who had masterfully put him away for life. He bet the two boys sitting on each of his sides had not the slightest clue that the felon sitting behind them was their grandfather. Then Meredith, his oldest child who was MIA until now. It was no secret that no one wanted him there, just as no one wanted his son Jack there. Harrison was keeping the possibility open that Jack concocted a plan to kill his sister and it had somehow backfired on both, an accusation that only he and his convicted father would understand.

The burning hatred Harrison had for Jack was indescribable and he hated that his sister had to go out beside him. In his eyes, Jack was a snake. Someone who was sly, manipulative and only good for stabbing another in the back, again, only Richard and him would know that. The rest of the family would be kept in the shadows mystified at how these two _good natured_ citizens ended up at their funerals a week later. The younger brother would have gladly waited for tomorrow, allowing his sister to have a funeral dedicated to only her, but no, he couldn't go against Tru's husband's wishes. Carter thought it would be befitting that they both be buried together on the same day; nobody could quite comprehend why but he insisted. He was a kind and honest man, when he took his boys to the front, he let them kiss their mother and Jack Harper away to everyone's surprise. He sat them back on the chair when they began to cry.

It was made obvious that he was emotionally connected to him as well. Harrison wondered if he knew after all that his wife was no normal woman and that this was no normal circumstance. The astounding part was that even though Harrison knew a great deal more than everyone else he still couldn't make a correct assumption as to what happened to Jack Harper and Tru Davies-Vance. It frustrated him that the missing piece of the story and 'what ifs' were what he would have to wrestle with for the rest of his life. _It had to have been August 20th._ August 20th, the day of their murder was the key, a day that saw two deaths prior to their own, a day that held more mayhem than the mere mortal would have known and a day that most likely or most definitely happened more than once.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Tru's First August 20** **th** **2014**

 **Part One**

The pitter patter of rain woke me from my sleep that morning. As soon as I gained full awareness my mind automatically told me to check my phone. It was a Saturday, so there were no messages from the hospital coming in and zero appointments popping up. For the first time in a whole month my phone just read the date, August 20th 2014, and the time 6:54am. I stared intently at it for a while almost in disbelief of how quickly time had flown. Just seven years ago, I became Mrs. Tru Rosalie Davies-Vance when I married my equally successful husband Carter. Then a few months after that the twins entered the picture. Then fast forward another few years and I was a full-blown mother and wife. For a couple moments, I went through the motion of staring at the ceiling, then staring at the time on my phone over and over again expecting it to somehow reverse. I was in awe of how smoothly my life had been so far, seven years without any abnormal incident was a huge win in my book. Taking a deep breath, a little smile appeared on my face realizing that I was doing it. I was living life the way it was supposed to be lived.

To be honest I was feeling myself a little bit. A self-made woman, not many could claim the title. A self-made beautiful woman, that's what one of those articles said. My one day vacation officially began, but my alarm didn't know that. It sounded and Carter jumped, "I'm up, I'm up…" he assured, his eyes teared up because of exhaustion. I rested the palm of my hand on his slightly hairy chest giving him the 'ok' to fall back to sleep. When he tucked himself back under the sheets I pecked his cheeks deciding to leave the bed to him that morning. I took a quick pit stop in the bathroom before I crept passed the boys' room in an attempt not to wake them. Their little snores sounded especially cute that morning and when I tiptoed past them the theme became 'what to do, what to do.' Had to take advantage of these quiet hours because every respectable house wif _e_ knew that once the hubby and the kids were up you might not ever get back the time.

I of course knew differently.

Wait…

I wasn't going there, August 20th was to be a happy day, happy, happy day. I thought to finish the romance novels that were taking up room on the shelf or catch an episode of 'The View' but in the end I decided to call my best friend Carissa. We met a year before but it felt like we'd been friends forever. I was helping her out with a sticky situation; her ex had resurfaced to drain more of her life force. When I tried to check up our service was disconnected, that meant another trip to the phone company. Since everything I was concocting was impossible my mom intuition said clean. My mom intuition was starting to become a natural thing these days, one by one I picked up the scattered toys. One by one I tossed them in the bin, action figures, trucks, and plastic swords until I was down to the final item, an electric helicopter. When I went to pick that up I heard a 'clank.' I shook it once and a gold chain spilled right out.

"How did…"

I jumped back as if the necklace was a snake. 'It rather well be,' I thought, a snake would have been better than that stupid-beat-up-golden-battered-mess-of-a chain. How did the boys get of ahold of it I had no clue? Why I hadn't gotten rid of it made even less sense.

' _Some people buy their daughters fancy trinkets with diamonds, I never liked that, Tru you are radiant and beautiful so there is no need for extravagant jewelry. Because you're already extravagant.'_ My father, Richard Davies gift for my twenty-fourth birthday. I ate up every word of affection and buried myself in his arms thinking we could put the past behind us and start anew, but what a lie. Even though he was locked away in a jail cell I still pondered on how he could sleep at night knowing that he murdered my mother. For nearly two decades he did all he could to mend our hearts when he was the reason why they were broken. The cold expression on his face when the jury found him guilty told the whole story; that he had no regrets and no remorse. The only good thing that came out of that dark time was the lawyer. You see the lawyer became my husband. When he came through the door I knew it was going to be more than just a one-time thing. He quirked his eyebrow to the side winning me with the dimples that appeared every time he smiled. Thinking of his smile I made a smile. That's right, I made a smile because 'I am in love with him and he is the great love of my life and we have the most perfect family.'

Balling up the jewelry in my fist I dropped that necklace in the waste paper basket in the bathroom disposing of the last piece of evidence from my old life. My father was rotting in prison, there was no racing against time, saving dead people or Jack… Jack.

There went my perfect day, right down the drain, when I thought about my father a whole line-up of terrible memories flooded my mind. Taking a walk through my hallow house sorrow for some reason began to set in like a bad fever. For the first time, it occurred to me that I might be living a vicious lie to cover up the hard truth that no matter how the circumstances change normal would never be my life. On the wall by the staircase was the picture we mailed to all our family and friends for Christmas. It was my two boys Harrison and Davis with their arms around a plush toy. When I told my brother, I was naming one of the boys after him and the other after our deceased friend Davis he looked at me with disgust.

' _You think you could cover it up Tru, I know your secret. You might have fooled Carter but you can't fool me.'_ It was the last words he told me before erasing himself from my world completely.

I took the photo off the wall and cradled it like they were just born and in my arms. My no-good brother was missing out on their lives just because of a wild accusation. My son Harrison was the oldest by five minutes exactly. He looked like me with, well, not really, he looked like my dad; long face and the most intense eyes. 'Oh, look at my Davis,' I thought, 'such beautiful silver eyes and brownish reddish hair and the cutest face.' A face that looked nothing like me, and nothing like Carter. With a tear rolling down my cheek I turned away in despair. _'No. I'm going to have a perfect family.'_ I convinced myself. I ran to the kitchen to turn on the stove. I mixed up the pancake batter and cut up the fruit into small cubes. As soon as the cinnamon pancake batter hit the skillet I knew its aroma would beckon the twins from their room and they would have no choice but to get out of bed. They would be the ideal distraction.

Twenty minutes later the first batch was complete with blueberries in it and chocolate syrup ready to be smothered over the top.

"Harry, Harry mommy's making pancakes!"

When I heard that I knew the plan had worked in my favor. The thumping from upstairs meant they were heading to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Preparing the table I felt warm hands pressing my waist in.

"Alright, pancakes for breakfast?"

"Carter!" I jumped.

"Sorry didn't mean to scare you." Carter looked on me with bewilderment. "Special occasion?" He suggested.

Still on the move I continued to put everything in its proper place functioning like an obsessive housewife. "Well can I make a big breakfast for my wonderful family?" I wore that concerned smile which Carter knew so well, which made his smile drop at the sight of my attentiveness.

He didn't second guess to follow me to the staircase. "Tru is there something you're not telling me here?"

"No." I ignored. "Boys come down or your pancakes are going to get cold!"

"Well are you sure?" He tried to direct my attention back to him.

"Yes babe. Now eat your breakfast." I asked. "Harry! Dave! Let's go! No playing around!"

"Ok. Well I'll be…enjoying the pancakes in the…the TV room, I guess." Before he walked away he brushed my shoulder. "Babe you don't have to stay here waiting for the boys, they're coming. They're six years old, you don't have to baby them."

I took a step back realizing that Carter sensed my anxiety. "Yeah, you're right. You know I get so nervous." I told him.

Carter looked at me with heartfelt eyes and I couldn't help but to feel more terrible. I flashed a phony smile letting him know he could exit and retire to the TV room.

"Stop __slapping me!" My body trembled when I heard the high pitch voices. I knew it was Davis yelling and that the twins had gotten into another one of their quarrels.

"Harrison! Davis! Stop it right now and come down here!" I called out preparing to become Judge Judy.

"He started it mommy! This dweeb broke my toy, it's why nobody likes him at school!" Harrison screamed from the second floor.

"That's not true and I do have friends! You just don't know them!" Davis retaliated.

"No-you-don't! You're going to be alone for the rest of your life and mommy and daddy are going to kick you out because you're such a loser and we're all going to forget you ever existed-"

"Stop it!" By this point I was beyond furious. "Now listen to me young man, you will go to your room for the rest of the day and if you come out so help me God I will beat you till your butt turns purple." Then I looked to Davis. "Come down here and eat your food and I don't want to hear another word."

"Ugh!" Harrison grunted. "You're just like daddy and screaming at me when I didn't do anything!" He repeatedly hit the stair's railing. "If you want him more you could have him!"

I expected him to march off to his room enraged like he always did in these situations but this time he kicked his foot on the side of Davis's leg making him lose his balance. The next thing I knew time pulled another trick out of its black hat, my world went in slow motion as Davis tumbled down the stairs, his body bending in ways that it shouldn't. It was the first time I wasn't fast enough and my six-year-old son's head landed right next to my left foot.

"Carter!"

Hoping that he heard over the booming sound coming from the speakers. Shaking Davis's arm, I tried to get him to wake but he was out cold. I could still feel his pulse and I knew we needed to get him to the hospital immediately, there was nothing I could possibly do to help him here. Darting out from the TV room was Carter.

"Did you call 911?" He asked hastily as I was speeding around looking for my phone.

"Yes!" I found it and I began dialing. When I pressed the call button I realized that the phone service was disconnected. I made Carter aware of that as soon as I noticed. Harrison heard us and after I said that he snapped out of his frozen-like state from atop of the stairs and went running out the front door.

Into the pouring rain, he went screaming. "HEY SOMEBODY CALL 911! MY BROTHERS HURT! SOMEBODY CALL 911! PLEASE CALL 911!" I had never seen him so emotionally frantic. Everybody in our neighborhood had a big yard so they wouldn't be able to hear him even if they were listening intently. On top of that the closest neighbors were out on vacation. I grabbed Harrison in my arms taking him back in the house.

"Babe load up the car we have to go! I'll look out for Davis!" I commanded. I constantly kept monitoring his heart beat. Harrison drenched wet stood over him continually saying _'I'm sorry wake-up,' 'I'm sorry wake-up.'_ Carter carefully took Davis in his arms and we were approaching the car when our prayers were magically answered. Arriving in front of our house was an ambulance. The medical staff came rushing out and it was quickly decided that I would ride with Davis while Harrison and Carter would follow behind in the car. From the beginning of the incident my heart was racing at the speed of light just processing steps and trying not to feel anything, but sitting in the ambulance broke me to pieces. I watched as they treated my son. In that moment looking at his pale face I felt my world come crashing down much like the rain. _'I can't do it,'_ was the exact words I was thinking. In my lifetime, I'd seen so many pass away right in front of me, their faces haunted my every waking moment, and I kept thinking could I bare adding my son's face to that memory bank. _'I can't.'_ Riding to the hospital I knew Davis was going to live for the simple fact that he had to.


End file.
